#27 The first wife fine tunes ‘annoying’

After two chemo sessions we’ve learnt a few things:

That the few days following Chernobyl sessions my first wife feels a little bit shit (pretty much over that weekend).

That if we want to socialise and do shit, we probably need to choose the alternate week to chemo sessions.

That the sheilas who work in the cancer care part at Mater Private Hospital in Redlands are all very lovely.

That the chair for support people like first husbands ain’t real comfortable.  Probably doesn’t help that we’re usually there for four hours, I guess.

That if I look at the sheilas in the cancer care centre with puppy dog eyes and make my stomach rumble, they will also give me a sandwich.

That it doesn’t matter where my first wife dozes off because she can do loud snorting snores that wake her up anywhere.

That although my first wife doesn’t recommend this weight loss program she has lost 10kg since this cunt of a disease entered our lives.

That people still care and very much still do give a fuck.

Cuzzies visiting so we can laugh at Lisa

That if we are organised, we can still do our backyard feeds and piss ups around the fire (even if first wives can’t drink piss with us).

That the record we thought would last forever on the pee tree has been broken and I am again the reigning champion, so fuck yeah!

That the one lot of neighbours on our street are still whinging cunts and all other neighbours are just good cunts.

That the first wife was probably correct and I was possibly wrong for maybe the second time ever.  We needed to cut down a couple trees in our backyard because they were fucking up our drains and house footings.  I was going to climb up and do them myself but a professional tree lopper managed to do it quick as, at a very good price and I didn’t even have to die or lose a limb by chain sawing a leg off instead of a tree branch.

Partial aftermath

That Marjana’s appetite is improving but she’s still finding out what she can and can’t eat, and that is forever changing.

That food tastes different to her now and she even thinks the wine I drink is now sour.

That my first wife has pissed me off and I’d use one of those Seven Dwarfs comparisons if I could but there isn’t one called ‘Annoying Dwarf’ so might have to start looking at Smurfs for comparisons because they got heaps more than just seven of the blue midget things.

I guess we all get pissed off with our spouses and going to work can be a good thing so you don’t spend all your time together and get pissed off for fuck all.  So when life changes like ours has it’s probably surprising it took us this long.

But on Saturday she pulled out that skillset that she excels in beyond belief. You know, the one called ‘nagging’ ‘cos she’s ‘Level Expert’ in that.  It’s one of her superpowers.

You know when your get like cabin fever and shit and you’re sharing that cabin with someone and everything they do pisses you off because basically they’re just annoying cunts… Well my first wife took it upon herself to blink as loudly as she could knowing that it was gunna annoy me.  She was blinking like a fucking spastic having an epileptic fit with a blink blink here and a fucking blink blink there and everywhere a fucking blink blink.

Having been snared by her trap in early 96, I know her pretty well and I’m not sure if it’s a cancer thing or just an age thing as the dear ol’ thing has got a few years under her belt now but fucked if I can remember a day ever that she blinked with such amplified results.

On a positive though, her eyes were open longer than the multiple milliseconds she spent blinking.

She is of course a staunch Catholic and her belief in God will see her/us through.

She even used it to trick me into forgiving her on Sunday by attending mass (even if it was via a livestream). She’s a cunning little thing I tell ya because she knows that at every mass there’s a part where you have to say hi or wish good will or something to people and because we were the only two in the room I fell victim to her crafty little plan and with her big beautiful eyes and her knowing smirk, I succumbed and gave her a kiss. Had to tell her real quick though that I forgave her before she could tell me first.

That’s a positive in more than one way too though because her guts might be all fucked up but her brain definitely ain’t.  She can even plan and shit… which by the way was what started it all because she wanted to plan the rest of the kitchen reno shit.

That leads on to the vertigo scene I guess, because although it ain’t brain related (its an ear thing with minute crystals being dislodged into the ear canal apparently) it’s very much a real-life interruption into our current real life situation, being that little thing we call the cunty cancer.

Vertigo physio session

So my first wife’s vertigo has improved heaps after doing some funky moves along the lines of ‘look left while sitting, lay down on right side, roll onto back with head still left, head to centre, roll back to right and sit back up’ but with long pauses between each part and of course I wouldn’t be the shit stirring cunt I am if I wasn’t continually doing annoying little things to her third tit and yes even her original ones while she’s not allowed to move, has to concentrate and her head is doing the ‘spin the bottle’ thing.  Some would argue I can be an annoying loud blinker myself, but I don’t fall into such nonsense.

Marjana is still getting regular visitors from our various networks and friend circles which always makes her happy. Just message or call her and you can come around so she can show you her scar. It’s one of her new hobbies now.

Her mobility is heaps better than it was but still not flash enough to hang out the washing which is mostly this slave’s work. I figured if I did a shit job her mobility might improve more but hasn’t worked yet, fuck it.

I may just be the Andy Warhol of hanging out washing

We have both joined some cancer groups on Facebook that are quite insightful as are all our mates who have battled this same shit.  It’s hard to comprehend how many people are affected by cancer, man.  It’s like waking up one day and being a ranga and when you go out in public you notice all the other people with red hair. Okay maybe it’s not that bad 😉  

I couldn’t be here to annoy my first wife if my work colleagues and bosses hadn’t been so awesome in accommodating our situation. It really does mean heaps, man so thank you but special thanks to some real good cunts Chris and Darni.

Chemo again on Wednesday so hopefully this one goes ahead.

I actually liked this tree but it was like killing one to save many

#26 A morning in the life of my first wife’s slave

Fuck, I’m gunna have to try write these more often as end up having too much to put in and turns into a long as read. But been a busy little cunt of late… you know doing slave shit.

I’m writing this a little backwards (yeah no surprise there I hear you say) as after a little hiccup following last chemo shots the first wife actually came good and felt ok… until she woke up this morning being chemo day again.

Oh man it was fucked as because she had vertigo and couldn’t move for fear of spinning out and spewing.  Now I’m always up for a good chunder but ol slave husband would’ve turned into slave husband performing spew clean up duties and fuck that shit, man.

Real speed video of getting spew bucket

So instead, my first wife’s first husband was the equivalent of an old fogeys walking frame being leaned on and grabbed like I seen you sheilas do at one of those male strip shows… okay, maybe not quite like that because the dear ol thing wasn’t too fussy on where she was grabbing, and in her defence probably had a different reason to grab.

Pull her up off the bed in slow motion not too dissimilar to the kids when we tell them to do the dishes…

Shuffle her into the ensuite where I’m sure if I could shit for her she would’ve got me to do that as well…

Find a ragggety old chair outside and bring inside to put into the shower for her to sit on…

Wash it cos it was dirty as an Argentinian rugby player in a ruck…

Use ‘The Force’ and somehow manage to get her into the shower without spewing…

Wash her hair and apparently the 28 in one all inclusive shampoo version that I used to use for everything from shampoo to engine oil isn’t ideal for this little princess’s hair and only one squirt per hair wash I’m told…

But then ya gotta do it again so why not use two squirts to start with? Fucked if I know but anyway, it got washed…

Ah, but then there’s another bottle for conditioner and away we go again… wash, wash, wash, clean, clean, clean or whatever it does…

Note to self…. apparently fondling her tits in the shower isn’t considered part of hair washing chores.

Anyway, I managed to survive that assignment in one piece…

Then a little a wipe with a towel and a pre hair drying artform needs to take place with a weird shaped cloth thing to fold her hair up inside and undertake a level three origami practice with funky folding techniques.

Then do the ol rabbiting (not this dictionary version ‘to have an uncharacteristically-large volume of sexual intercourse – especially with a partner – in a relatively short timespan; or even this one ‘the sport of hunting rabbits’ but the rugby term like a shuffling double movement) thing back into the room so I can undertake another awesome task of drying her hair using a hair dryer.

For any other dudes who want to upskill, just DM me because there is a whole raft of tactics to achieve this correctly.  I won’t bore you with details here but it is not a quick process…

Now, where was I?  Oh that’s right… slave chores including giving her kisses because secretly we’re happy as fuck that she hasn’t lost her hair (yet) due to chemo and I can still take the piss out of her/it.

With all these directions given and undertaken I’m forgetting the order of ‘em but somewhere along the line I fed her, always making sure her spew bucket was within arm’s (or vomit’s) reach, put her socks on and kiss her feet before doing so. For those who may be wondering, I am a weird cunt alright but not really the feet fetish sort of dude but she digs the ol’ foot kiss so I guess I can’t wait to do it all again.

Not my first wife’s breakfast but my first attempt at home made Thai Fish cakes. Gunna buy ’em next time.

Manage to get my first wife to her chemo session on time which turned into a ‘Yeah, nah not today, sunshine. Because when ya already dizzy as fuck and having ya worst day yet they don’t really want to poison you more. I get it.

So, have booked her in for a physio visit tomorrow to hopefully fuck off this vertigo and postponed her chemo session a week later.

My first wife has had vertigo a couple times and it really fucks her up big time aye. Kinda shit really.

Trying a West African chicken dish a few days ago thanks to a work mate Heather

Marjana’s oncologist is pretty onto it though, is highly rated within the cancer circles and also reminds me of a gnome.  She was adamant that I don’t refer to him as a gnome though so for anyone wondering the official line is ‘No he does not look like a gnome at all (but really he does).  Having said that, I reckon gnomes are cool as fuck.  They get to travel the world over when people steal them from gardens and take photos to send back to the owners. So for the record, if ever I call you a gnome it’s not a detrimental term but a term of endearment… not as much a term of endearment as ‘good cunt’ though. And anyway, this oncologist dude is really onto it and we’d be fucked without him, whether he reminds me of a gnome or not…. even though he isn’t a gnome (but does still really look like one to me).

Finish the morning off by taking my slave master, first wife, the ol’ girl aka Marjana back home to give her a feed and watch her sleep on the couch trying not to move at all so she doesn’t spew… and it ain’t even related to cancer for fucks sake.

Then write this blog.

Bit of a cunt of a day but that’s living!

And it really is, so fuck yeah!

When ya cat sees ya and yells at you to let her inside and feed her.